Her nervous laugh rings through the night.
I pull her closer, wrapping her arms around my neck, and I suck in a breath as the heat of her body sparks against me. I sorta forgot I was shirtless—but I’m very aware of it now.
Very aware of how tiny her tank top is too.
I clear my throat. “Seems like a pretty simple decision to me. On the one hand, your place has scratchy palm leaves. And bugs. And dead things.”
“Dead things?”
“Gavin’s been busy. He’s pretty pissed at you, by the way. He may tear out some of your hair when he sees you.”
“I wouldn’t blame him.” She leans her head against my chest, triggering a new wave of sparks that makes it very hard to breathe.
“So then . . . my place?” I whisper. “No psycho bird. Everything we need to get cleaned up. Then a nice soft bed . . .”
She leans back to look at me. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Actually, I think it’s a very good idea. Pretty much the best idea I’ve ever had.”
She smiles and steps up to her tiptoes, pecking me on the lips before she pulls away.
I grab her hands to stop her from leaving. “I promise, I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”
She doesn’t look convinced.
I drop my eyes to our hands, twisting our fingers together. “I just . . . I feel like if I let you out of my sight, you might disappear again.”
Sadness seeps into her features and she lifts my hand to her lips, kissing the center of my palm. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Then stay with me.”
I can hardly believe it when she nods, and my legs get all weak and wobbly as I lead her toward the house.
I forgot to bring a key to the front door, so we head toward my bedroom, and I can’t help turning toward the date grove—where Feng will never wait for me again.
I swallow the lump in my throat as I try to open my window. It’s locked too.
Audra laughs and nudges me aside, sending a draft under the sill that clicks the lock and slides open the window in one go, like she’s done it a thousand times before. I smile when I realize she has.
But this time is different.
This time I’m not asleep, and she’s not sneaking around.
She climbs in first and I copy her steps, for once making it inside without scraping my skin on the thorns. And as soon as my feet hit the rug, I pull her against me, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her—
“I thought you were going to be the perfect gentleman,” she whispers against my lips.
“Well, maybe not perfect.”
I feel her mouth twist with a smile as she slides her hands up my neck and tangles her fingers in my hair. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
She kisses me then, and the sparks are so hot, so bright, I swear they almost blind me—but when I open my eyes, I really am blind and it has nothing to do with the kiss.
The lamp by my bed is now switched on, and as I squint through the glaring light, I see a movement in the covers.
I have just enough time to think, Craaaaaaaaaaaaaap.
Then Solana tosses her hair and says, “I guess this is the real reason why you canceled our betrothal.”
CHAPTER 28
AUDRA
I
don’t know what to feel as I watch Solana untangle her long, tanned legs from the covers of Vane’s bed.
She’s prettier than I remember. Soft curls and bright eyes and toned, graceful limbs.
And Vane only seems a little surprised to see her.
Mostly, he looks guilty.
I try to pull my hands away but he tightens his grip. “It’s not what it looks like.”
“Really?” Solana snaps, before I can form a coherent reply.
“Because it looks like you’re bonded to another girl.”
Vane turns around to face her. “Well, okay, I guess it is what it
looks like to you—and I’m sorry you had to find out like this.” He
turns back to me. “But I promise, she’s only here because she offered to protect my parents while I was gone. And she wasn’t even supposed to be home,” he adds, turning back to Solana. “You said you’d
take them somewhere safe.”
“I did. And then I heard on the winds that the Gales had turned
back, so we did the same.”
“That doesn’t explain why you’re in his bed,” I say, wishing I
didn’t sound as jealous as I feel. She has just as much right to be there
as me—probably more, since she’s the one with the promise link on
her wrist.
Still, an irrational rage makes me want to claw at her face
when she crosses her arms and says, “Vane and I have been sleeping
together.”
“Just sleeping,” Vane corrects—glaring at her before he turns
back to me. “And only because I was desperate. I told you Raiden was
giving me nightmares, right? Solana knows a trick that blocks them.” I want to nod—want to make the pieces of his story fit together
into a truth that washes away the sour lump in my throat. But I can’t stop staring at the dent in Vane’s pillow, imaging
Solana lying in the dark, waiting for him to crawl into bed next to
her.